Welcome to Sunnyhell: The Realm Chronicles
by Calliope Hellice
Summary: What would happen if two girls in our dimension decide to use their witchy friends magickal tools to meet Spike from BtVS? Incomplete.


1 Welcome to SunnyHell!  
  
The Realm Chronicles  
  
Disclaimer: The characters, other than Morgan, Jenny and Sara, belong to Warner Brothers, Fox, Joss Whedon and Mutant Productions (not to mention Grrr--arggh!).  
  
Rating: Likely NC-17 after I'm done.  
  
Summary:A witch's little sister, and her friend, use a spell. This results in a transportation to Sunnydale.  
  
Pairings:Willow/Tara, Spike/Morgan, Xander/Jenny, Cordelia/Gunn, Wesley/Buffy...any others i failed to mention who haven't been written in yet.  
  
Part I: A Spell Gone Bad  
  
In Toronto, Ontario  
  
Jenny giggled as she and Sara lit the candles around her older sister's room. It was exciting, the drama, the power, the tools, the atmosphere. She couldn't believe she and Sara were going through with this. Better yet, she couldn't believe this may have a chance of working.  
  
Sara looked up from the worn and yellowing pages of Morgan's Grimoire. She was still in awe that Jenny's sister is a witch. A WITCH! The real thing. Not those weird new agey people who ran the "alternative wellness" shopped downtown, but an honest-to-goodness witch--like Willow and Tara on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She squealed quietly as Jenny put the book of matches down on Morgan's altar, an ornately carved mahogany table with a large drawer in it. Three black candles sat between one large silver candle to the left, and one large gold candle to the right. A pentagram painted on a flat, round rock sat beneath a silver bowl of salt, a copper bowl of water stood to the West and an incense holder sat to the East, while a red candle stood in a small glass holder in the South. A small silver daggar with strange carvings on the handle and sharpened blade sat in the center, as did a picture of Spike from Buffy, and next to that stood two mirrors.  
  
"Are we almost ready?" Sara asked Jenny.  
  
"I think so," the dark-haired girl replied, brown eyes looking over her work at setting up the altar and candles and herbs around the room. "I'm glad Morgan is away at Gram's for a week-she'd kill us if she found out what we're doing!"  
  
The red-head giggled. "Well, then she just won't find out!" she exclaimed, "Now, what do we do first?"  
  
"Call the 'Quarters'," Jenny picked up the leather bound Grimoire, then turned to face the East.  
  
Watchtower of the East  
  
Inspiration of Apollo and the Muses  
  
Bringer of Words and Music  
  
Watch over this rite  
  
I command thee!  
  
She turned to the Southern point in the room.  
  
Watchtower of the South  
  
Passion of Ares  
  
Bringer of War and Lust  
  
Watch over this rite  
  
I command thee!  
  
She turned to the Western point in the room.  
  
Watchtower of the West  
  
Intuition of Athena  
  
Bringer of Knowledge and Wisdom  
  
Watch over this rite  
  
I command thee!  
  
She turned to the Northern point in the room.  
  
Watchtower of the North  
  
Grouding of Demeter  
  
Bringer of Stability and Growth  
  
Watch over this rite  
  
I command thee!  
  
The pages in Jenny's hands began blowing in the sudden wind. Sara gasped as walls of each element in its quarter came up from the floor. Flames, waves, wind and earth formed a circle around the two girls and the altar.  
  
"What now?" she asked, green eyes wide.  
  
"We offer the gods we invoked cakes and wine," Jenny broke off a piece of angel cake and put it in the roughly hewn clay dish, then poured red wine over it, staining the soft white cake as if it were blood. Jenny put some in a chalice, then handed Sara a piece of cake. "Eat it." She said.  
  
After eating a piece each and swallowing wine which heated their skin with the alcohol, Jenny spread her arms above her head, then unsheathed the daggar and aimed it at the Northern point.  
  
Ye Gods of Olde  
  
Ye Gods of Arcadia  
  
I summon thee!  
  
I invoke thee!  
  
I stir thee!  
  
Answer to my heed!  
  
I give thee cakes  
  
I give thee wine  
  
I offer thee my devotion  
  
In this hour of Magick  
  
In this space out of time  
  
I look to you  
  
To thee, the Divine!  
  
Power surged through the room, and Jenny and Sara looked at each other, eyes wide with fear.  
  
"Go on," Sara urged her friend.  
  
Jenny picked up the eye pencil and wrote on one mirror "Jenny and Sara, Toronto Ontario", then picked up the other mirror and wrote "Spike, Sunnydale California". She picked up the picture of Spike and wrote on it "One true love". Facing the altar, with the three items on it, Jenny lit the three black candles.  
  
One for the place we are from  
  
One for the place he is from  
  
And one for the one true love  
  
Whom we wish to invoke.  
  
Take him from there-  
  
Jenny smashed the mirror with Sunnydale written on it. One black candle extinguished itself.  
  
Take us from here-  
  
She smashed the second mirror with their names on it. Another candle extinguished itself.  
  
Give us our true love!  
  
Jenny held the photo over the last candle, and the picture burst into flames and practically dissolved, singeing her fingers. Then the last candle extinguished itself, and the world went black for Jenny and Sara.  
  
In Grimsby, Ontario  
  
Morgan fell to the ground, clutching her head in agony. A migraine overcame her as she plucked pears from Gram's tree. The Crone ran to where her granddaughter lay, and helped her into the house. She lay the girl down in the guest room, stroking her hair-gold, silver and copper intertwined, just like her mother's was-and layed a cool cloth soaked with catplant and camomile, and just a touch of deadly nightshade, to ease the migraine.  
  
"Sleep, dear girl," Mebd said to her granddaughter, a Witch whose talent rivaled her own. "You must be well for our lessons." Then she left her to sleep.  
  
"Watchtower of the East  
  
Inspiration of Apollo--"  
  
Morgan heard her sister's wavery voice casting the Quarters of the Arcadian pantheon.  
  
"No!" Morgans voice was hoarse, too faint to be heard through the thick mist. "What are you--" her voice trailed off, acknowledging her sister and her friend-what was her name? Sharan? Sarah? Something like that-couldn't hear her.  
  
"I give thee cakes  
  
I give thee wine  
  
I offer thee my devotion  
  
In this hour of Magick  
  
In this space out of time  
  
I look to you  
  
To thee, the Divine!" Jenny's voice invoked the Deities for the spell--the spell to take you to a lost lover.  
  
Morgan saw a picture on the altar. An attractive young man, with piercingly electric blue eyes, sculpted features, and platinum hair.  
  
"Who the Hel is that?" she wondered aloud to herself.  
  
"Give us our true love!" Jenny burned the photo, the paper disintigrating, then the candle extinguished itself. Then everything was black.  
  
Somewhere Unknown  
  
Morgan groaned. The aftermath of her migraine lingered in her temples and neck, and her body ached as if she had just taken on a WWF wrestler. Or perhaps the Argonauts.  
  
Jenny rubbed her eyes, trying to get used to the harsh daylight. She sat up, not recognizing the park she and Sara were laying in. She Turned her brown eyes over the immediate area, then did a double take.  
  
"Morgan?" she shrieked, half in fear and half in relief. Fear of punishment at the hands of her older sister, and half in relief that she was here to make right whatever they did wrong.  
  
"Wha-" The girl rose, then when the blood rushed from her head, dropped back down to the ground. "Where the Hel are we?" she ground out in a dangerous tone, as the world spun around her, making her want to vomit up the Korn Flakes she had eaten for breakfast.  
  
"Not to alarm anyone," Sara began haltingly. "But I think we're in Sunnydale."  
  
"What?" Jenny shrieked, just as Morgan asked "Where?"  
  
"Sunnydale-the town in California where Buffy the Vampire Slayer is set," Sara explained, as if Morgan should already know this little tidbit of information.  
  
"What the Hel is Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" the older girl growled as she sat up, finally making it to her feet.  
  
Jenny struggled up into a standing position," It's a television show about this girl who is a Slayer, and she has to kill Vampires and other demons and always save humanity."  
  
Morgan turned a firey violet glare at her half-sister. "And you are telling me," she ground out between clenched teeth, her fists clenched so her nails dug into her palms. "That we are now somehow in this fictional town where a TV series is set?"  
  
"Um--well--" Sara stuttered.  
  
"Well, kind of..."Jenny's voice trailed off.  
  
Morgan glared at each in turn. "So you two snuck into my room, used my altar, looked in my Grimoire, used my candles, scrying mirrors, which you broke, and transported us to another dimension where this show is reality?" her voice raised in anger as she spoke, to the point where she was yelling.  
  
"Kind of-" Jenny squeeked out.  
  
"Do you know what you've done?" Morgan yelled, her composure gone, fear and anger taking its place. "You've messed around with dimensions, magick and likely put time and space into jeopardy because of this spell! all to meet a fictional character!"  
  
"but he's really hot..." Sara looked away sheepishly.  
  
"Who's idea was this?" Morgan asked, looking between the two 17-year-olds.  
  
They both pointed at the other.  
  
"Well, let's find someone who can help," Morgan frowned, then felt the belt of her jeans. Her daggar was there, sheathed. Strange, she thought. How did that get there?  
  
"That would be Rupert Giles!" Sara exclaimed.  
  
"Or Giles as he is known to everyone else," Jenny added.  
  
"The Magick Shoppe should be this way," Sara led the way out of the park and down a tree-lined street.  
  
Part II: A Slayer, A Vampire and A Witch  
  
Magick Shoppe, Sunnydale California  
  
Morgan led the way into the Magick Shoppe, opening the heavy wooden door. The scent of Patchouli was strong and pungent. The energy was strong, vibrations of magick, strength and--soemthing Morgan couldn't identify hung in the atmosphere.  
  
Rupert Giles stood at the counter, leafing through ordering pamphlets when he felt someone's gaze on him. He looked up into violet eyes. Disconcerted he removed his glasses and cleared his throat.  
  
"May I help you?" he asked the young woman with two teenaged girls in tow.  
  
"You're Rupert Giles?" The young woman asked, her violet eyes unwavering.  
  
"Yes," he replied cautiously, "Do I know you?"  
  
She shook her head. "but these two-" she indicated the two teenagers, "Said you could likely help us. They say you are a magickal adept and a Watcher of some sort."  
  
"How-how in the world do you know that?" he asked, taken aback. He replaced his glasses, staring at the trio.  
  
"It's complicated-" the violet-eyed girl looked at the other two. "Maybe these two should explain," she jabbed the dark-haired girl in the ribs with her elbow. "And start from the beginning."  
  
After the two teenagers-whose names were Jenny and Sara, although Rupert Giles couldn't remember which was which, had stopped babbling about how they ended up in Sunnydale, he looked to the young woman called Morgan.  
  
"And how do you come into this? Other than using your Grimoire and tools, that is?" he asked.  
  
Morgan shook her head. "I haven't the slightest clue. I had hoped you would know how I got dragged here." she smiled slightly. "After all, you are the magickal adept."  
  
Giles blushed. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call myself that." he said.  
  
"Call yourself what?" A blonde woman strode into the shoppe, followed by a red head, a young woman with ash-blonde hair, and a young man with dark hair and eyes.  
  
"Hey, G-man, are you keeping all the lucious ladies to yourself?" the young man wriggled his eyes in a mock-suggestive gesture.  
  
"Certainly not!"  
  
Morgan grinned at his blush, despite herself.  
  
"So what's going on Giles?" the red head asked.  
  
"Um-er-perhaps you all should sit down for this," Giles suggested, gesturing to the remaining seats at the round table.  
  
the group sat, and Jenny and Sara started babbling to Morgan.  
  
Out of the babbling, Morgan understood that the first blonde woman was Buffy (what kind of name was that?), the red head was Willow, the other blonde was Tara, Willow's girlfriend, and the young man was Xander.  
  
"So you guys are from a world where we are in a TV show?" Willow asked slowly.  
  
Jenny and Sara nodded. Morgan shrugged, "I don't watch TV." she explained to curious looks.  
  
"so how much do you know about us?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Everything since the time you moved here," Sara replied.  
  
Xander wrinkled his nose. "It's kinda wiggy you guys knowing everything about us!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Sorry," Jenny offered, looking at her hands. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come up with the stupid idea to try that spell."  
  
"Which spell was it?" Giles realized the girls had yet to mention that.  
  
"Um-er-well-" Jenny shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"The, um, take me to my lost lover spell," Sara interjected, her voice quiet, "We were trying to meet Spike."  
  
"Ewww!" Buffy exclaimed, shivering. "Gross!"  
  
"Wiggy!" Xander exclaimed, then looked at Jenny. She looked downtrodden. He reached for her hand under the table and squeezed it. Everything will be okay, he thought to her, hoping he looked reassuring. The pretty girl smiled gratefully at him, making his heart jump at the innocence shining in her dark gray eyes.  
  
"And why would you want to meet me?" A cockneyed voice asked lazily from the door.  
  
Everyone's eyes were riveted to the young man. Morgan recognized him as the man in the picture on her altar. Electric blue eyes circled the table, searching each person for an answer.  
  
"Well? Cat got everyone's tongues?" He laughed and flicked his cigarette outside, then strode into the shoppe.  
  
Sara gasped.  
  
"What's wrong, Pet? Now that you get to meet me, you're havin' second thoughts?" he traced the red-head's jaw, his finger moving down her tender white throat.  
  
Morgan was there in a moment. She pulled his hand off Sara and twisted it behind his back. "Don't touch her," she ground out behind clenched teeth.  
  
"Feisty one, in't she?" His lazy voice didn't change tone. He easily slid out of Morgan's hold and had her by her throat. "And asking to be hurt," he hissed in her ear.  
  
Buffy moved to get up, but Jenny stopped her.  
  
"Morgan can handle him," she told the Slayer.  
  
"But-" the blonde girl protested.  
  
"Buff, trust her," Xander said, squeezing Jenny's hand tighter.  
  
"Perhaps," Morgan tilted her head, then brought her hands together. "Or perhaps not." when her hands seperated an orangish glow emenated from her cupped palms. She released it, hitting Spike square in the chest. He let go of her throat and she moved backwards quickly.  
  
Lifting his head, game face on, he snarled at the violet-eyed girl. "More than feisty," he grinned.  
  
"Spike-Mr. Pointy is here to see you." Buffy stood just behind the Witch, waving a wooden stake at the vampire.  
  
"He's the reason we're here?" Morgan looked at her sister and Sara in shock. "Why?" she asked in an incredulous tone.  
  
"Hey, i'm right here, Pet," Spike's game face was gone. "A vamp's got feelings too, y'know."  
  
Buffy smirked, returning to her seat. "He's impotent, Morgan," she explained. "He can't hurt any humans because of a chip the government implanted in his brain."  
  
Spike pouted even more. Morgan grinned at him.  
  
"Awww, poor Spike," she cooed in a baby-voice.  
  
"Shut up, you bloody-bloody witch!"  
  
The group at the table starting laughing uproarisly.  
  
"That's your best insult?" Xander gasped, clutching his sides. "Fang-boy, you've seriously got to work on your witty banter."  
  
"Not that I get any practice with you lot," He sniffed, shoving his hands into his duster's pockets. "None of you would know wit if it bit you in the arse."  
  
That started the laughter all over again. The vampire whirled around and stomped out of the Magick Shoppe, lighting a cigarette when he got outside and inhaling the smoke deep within his dead lungs.  
  
Morgan slipped out of the shoppe behind him, the others not noticing within their peals of laughter.  
  
She reached out and went to touch Spike's shoulder, but he whirled around and grabbed her hand, pulling her against him before she could even breathe.  
  
"Don't think I won't kill you," He growled.  
  
"Don't think I can't stop you," She replied in a low voice, staring into electric blue eyes. "Besides, you can't kill me, Spike," she added in an ever lower voice. "Even if you wanted to."  
  
He released her arm, practically tossing her aside. "What do you want from me?" he growled.  
  
"I wanted to apologize," Morgan returned to him, staring up into his snarling face. "For that comment in there. It was insensitive of me, I'm sorry."  
  
He looked shocked. "What?"  
  
"I said 'I'm sor-'" spike cut her off.  
  
"I know what you said, whelp, but why are you apologizing to me?"  
  
Morgan gave him a strange look, not understanding where he was going with this. "I hurt your feelings, I'm apologizing. Are things different here, in Sunnydale? Is this dimension full of rude people?"  
  
"This dimension?" the blonde vampire said slowly. "What are you-"  
  
Morgan cut him off, giving him a brief explanation of what had happened that day. "So now we're here, in this fictional town, with vampires and witches and demons-"  
  
"But you're a witch," Spike pointed out.  
  
"But where I'm from, it's not common to be a real witch with Power." she explained, running a hand through her shoulder-length waves. "I was a freak, something different. Here, it's normal."  
  
"But not what you did to me in there," spike appraised the young woman. He could practically smell the Power on her. Strong and sweet. Like her blood- his eyes trailed her neck, imagining slicing it open with his fangs-  
  
Oh god! Ow ow ow! damn chip damn chip damn chip, he thought, clutching his head.  
  
"Are you okay?" Morgan grabbed Spike's arm as he stumbled, clutching his blonde head and wincing in pain.  
  
"The bloody chip those wankers put in my head-god damn it!" he cried.  
  
"But it's only activated when you think about hurting a human--you were thinking about biting me!" her eyes widened, not in fear, as Spike would have thought, but in disappointment and sadness.  
  
"I'm-I'm sorry-" His unbeating heart sank in his chest at the look in her eyes. Shattered amethyst, it looked like.  
  
"Morgan-c'mon! We're staying at Buffy's-let's go!" Jenny called out from the door of the shoppe.  
  
Morgan whirled from Spike, loping over to her sister.  
  
Way to make the Witch feel welcome, Spike thought to himself, stealing away in the shadows, hiding his shame. He didn't want to bite her to kill her. He wanted a taste of her Power, a taste of her. Dammit Spike-what's wrong with you? he chastised himself. Remember, evil vampire? grrr? arrrg?  
  
But...  
  
No buts...he told himself. Just remember who you are, and who she is.  
  
Buffy's House, Sunnydale California  
  
"Mom and Dawn are away for the next couple weeks--soem mother-daughter retreat thing," Buffy explained to the two newcomers. "Morgan, you can take mom's room, and Jenny and Sara can sleep in Dawn's room--she has two beds."  
  
Buffy led them upstairs. "You guys don't have any clothes with you?"  
  
"We didn't exactly have time to pack," Morgan gestured to her dirt-stained jeans and grubby tank top. "I was gardening when we--ended up coming here."  
  
"Well, then shopping is a must!" Buffy exclaimed. "We'll get the girls and go to the mall tomorrow. For now, you can borrow some sweats and T-shirts to sleep in."  
  
"We don't have any money," Jenny said softly, playing with the carpet with her toe, and watching it intently.  
  
"No prob, credit card!" Buffy smiled warmly at the girl. "You guys can pay me back sometime. For now, we need to make sure you're comfortable while you're here."  
  
Jenny and Sara disappeared into Dawn's room to change into the sweat pants and T-shirts Buffy had given them.  
  
The Slayer was headed to her room when Morgan caught her arm.  
  
"Thanks," she said softly.  
  
"For what?"  
  
For everything. Helping us, taking us in, feeding us--"  
  
"That's what we do, Morgan." Buffy hugged her quickly. "Now, get some rest, we have serious shopping to do tomorrow."  
  
"G'night Buffy," Morgan said, moving into her mom's room.  
  
"'Night Morgan," then the door clicked shut.  
  
Morgan pulled on the oversized T-shirt Buffy had given her and climbed into the queen sized bed. The pillows were filled with feathers, covered with crisp white linen. the sheets matched the pillow cases, and a white down comforter weighed heavily on her. It felt--safe, Morgan decided. Snuggling into the warmth, Morgan drifted into a restless sleep.  
  
The beauty nestled in a bed of white tossed restlessly in her sleep, as if she knew he was watching her.  
  
Spike stood silent and still in the shadows of Joyce's bedroom. Morgan lay there, her hair spalyed over pillow and cheek in a tumble of locks the colour of precious metals.  
  
Gold, silver and copper hair. Peaches and cream complexion. Violet eyes rimmed with thick black lashes. Even in the dirty jeans and T-shirt she had worn that night she looked stunning. In his entire undead life he'd never seen such a gorgeous creature.  
  
Spike moved closer to the bed. A gasp escaped Morgan's lips, then she sighed and smiled in her sleep.  
  
Her smell overpowered him. such Power, such sweetness, laced with the scents of vanilla and lavendar.  
  
He ached to touch her, to hold her. To let her know she would be okay in Sunnyhell. That her charade of strength and bravary wasn't necessary.  
  
Suddenly her violet eyes were staring right at him.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she demanded in a voice cold enough to still his unbeating heart.  
  
"Just checking up on you, et," he set his jaw, turning his gaze to the moonlit night outside the window.  
  
"Why?" her voice softened a touch. Morgan sat up in bed, brushing the shimmering strands of hair from her face.  
  
Spike shrugged nonchalantly and threw a glance at her. "How do I know you're not going to try to take over the world?"  
  
Morgan laughed, a sound like none he'd ever head before escaped her lips. Breathy, tinkling, bright, and most of all, beautiful.  
  
"Because you know I wouldn't," she set her gaze on him, forcing his eyes to her. "why are you here?" she repeated slowly and quietly, searching Spike's eyes.  
  
He looked away.  
  
"I was curious," he ground out. "You being from another dimension and all."  
  
Spike turned his back to Morgan, staring out the window.  
  
"So you wanted to check out my sleeping habits?" she asked, a smile in her voice.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
Suddenly he felt her hands on his shoulders. A golden light washed over him, emanating from her touch. He could see her with an old lady, her grandmother, performing magickal exercises. Her mum, dying after giving birth to a little girl with eerie purple eyes. Her dad, remarrying and having her sister, Jenny. Her series of failed relationships with teenaged boys and older men. Her heart breaking every time she read the news or saw something disturbing on the telly.  
  
Then the light was gone. Her hands were gone, and he turned and faced the girl, looking into her violet eyes, questions going unanswered.  
  
"Curiosity satisfied?" she asked quietly, her head cocked to one side.  
  
Spike felt his heart breaking, knowing the distance she kept, the coldness she felt to stop the pain of being so open to empathic feelings. He knew the darkness she lived in. He had lived it for what seemed like a millenia.  
  
"Yes," his voice was defeated, deflated. "I, um, have some demons to kill-- so I should really..." his voice trailed off.  
  
"'Bye Spike," Morgan said quietly, turning her back to him and climbing back into bed and shutting her eyes.  
  
He stared at the girl, the woman, the amazing witch who had come into his life like a tornado, and was now leaving so quickly, then leaped from Joyce's window into the night to take his frustration out on some poor unsuspecting demon.  
  
Part III: Shopping and Dancing Are a Girls' Best Friend  
  
Morgan yawned, stretching, and looked around the strange room where she slept. Where the Hel am I? she thought, then the memories came back. Sunnydale, Buffy, Spike--the others. The Spell. Morgan shook her head, then climbed out of bed and padded downstairs.  
  
"Good morning!" Buffy's cheerful voice greeted the violet eyed witch. "Pancakes?"  
  
Morgan shook her head. "Coffee would be good, though," she replied.  
  
"You know that stuff stunts your growth." Buffy teased.  
  
Morgan shrugged. "I need something to wake me up. I was up late last night with S-" she cut off, deciding that telling the Slayer a Vampire invaded her room last would not be the best of things to say this morning. "With stuff to think about." she corrected herself.  
  
Buffy nodded. "I know. It's way wiggy that you guys are here, and where you're from. But we deal with the weird and wacky on a regular basis, so we'll figure this out." the Slayer nodded firmly. "We will."  
  
Morgan smiled greatfully at the blonde. Buffy smiled back, a little sadly.  
  
"Anyways," she continued. "We have to meet Will and Tara at the mall in an hour. You can borrow some of my clothes for today, I'm sure you don't want to wear your dirt-covered jeans and shirt again."  
  
"Sure, thanks. I think I'll shower too, I feel pretty gross," Morgan stood from the table, downing the last of her coffee.  
  
"You smell it too." Her sister wrinkled her nose as she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a long-sleeved green shirt and flared jeans, and Sara had on denim shorts and a long sleeved orange shirt with a monkey picture on the chest.  
  
Morgan stuck her tongue out and walked past the two teenagers towards the bathroom.  
  
The hot water poured over Morgan's pale skin, streaking it red with the heat. She turned on the shower radio hanging from the tiled wall of the bathtub enclosure, the music and water becoming her only reality away from this strange universe of Sunnydale.  
  
Do I fuel my hunger deprive my dreams  
  
Live my lonely worn out seam  
  
Stitches weary and the scars they leave  
  
I'm the only one deceived  
  
The music sounded familiar to Morgan, but she couldn't remember the singer. His clear, but slightly husky, voice rang out through the bathroom. She began to softly sing along, moving slightly to the music under the pelting hot water.  
  
Please stand clear from the blast  
  
As I purge demons from my past  
  
Don't aspire to relieve  
  
Do your worst and Punish Me  
  
Demons-the word brought Spike to mind. William the Bloody, Morgan thought. That's what Sara had called him. A penchant for torturing his victims with railroad spikes, hence the nickname.  
  
So I run fast I can  
  
Die tomorrow half a man  
  
Finish the story she said to me  
  
I can't sit here and watch you bleed  
  
Please stand clear from the blast  
  
As I purge demons from my past  
  
Don't aspire to relieve  
  
Do your worst and Punish Me  
  
Morgan sighed, feeling tears sting her eyelids. She missed Grams, she missed home. She missed Sorcia, her little familiar.  
  
Do I fuel my hunger deprive my dreams  
  
Live my lonely worn out seam  
  
Stitches weary and the scars they leave  
  
I'm the only one deceived  
  
Please stand clear from the blast  
  
As I purge demons from my past  
  
Don't aspire to relieve  
  
Do your worst and Punish Me  
  
The song ended and the Witch left the shower, drying off with a fluffy white bath towel, and put on the robe hanging on the back of teh door. She padded into the bedroom and found a pair of black pants and a violet tank top with a print of a Hindu goddess on it laying on the bed. She changed, feeling better to be in clean clothing at least.  
  
Sunnydale Mall  
  
The mall was huge, with hundreds of stores. Buffy and Willow and Tara pulled the three newcomers through the maze of hallways, picking out clothing and shoes for the girls.  
  
"Wow, look at this!" Willow pulled out a calf-length shimmery violet dress. "It would look great on you, Morgan. With your eyes and all. Don't you think Tara?"  
  
The blonde nodded furtively, her full lips turning up into a smile.  
  
"Go try it on, Morgan," Buffy urged. "You can wear it to the Bronze tonight."  
  
"The what?" violet eyes looked at the Slayer strangely.  
  
"It's a club, sis." Jenny laughed, pushing her towards the changeroom. "Now put it on and come out and show us how you look."  
  
Morgan undressed, then slipped the sheath over her head. It clung to her hips and waist, falling softly to her calves, and revealed her cleavage at the neckline. She walked out of the room slowly, looking shyly at the others.  
  
"I think it's a little too tight in teh hips and too low--"  
  
"Nonsense!" Buffy grinned. "You look fabulous! We just need shoes."  
  
"And a purse," Willow added.  
  
"Can't forget the purse," Tara teased.  
  
After finding a purse and sandals in a shimmery black, the gang went over to the Magick Shopped to discuss the business of trying to get Morgan, Sara and Jenny home.  
  
Buffy's House  
  
"Are you sure you'll be okay here by yourselves?" Morgan asked her sister and Sara for the thirtieth time that evening.  
  
"We'll be fine! Geez, Morgan, we're not babies." Jenny exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.  
  
"We are seventeen," Sara added. "Go out, have fun, don't get eaten."  
  
"Okay, fine." Morgan returned to her room to finish getting ready.  
  
"Morgan, are you ready?" Buffy's voice called out fifteen minutes later.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Morgan pushed open the bedroom door and descended the stairs into the front hallway. Buffy, Willow and Tara were staring at her with wide eyes.  
  
"What's wrong? Is it my hair? My-" she asked, panicking.  
  
"You're beautiful," Buffy reassured.  
  
"Stunning." Willow added, nodding her head, squeezing Tara's hand. "Go look." she added, gesturing to the full length mirror in the hallway.  
  
Morgan looked at her reflection, the dress clung to her curves, the neckline plunging to reveal cleavage enhanced by a push up bra. The strappy sandals with their chunky heels made her legs look long and shapely. She smiled at herself. She hadn't looked this good in a long time.  
  
"Come on, ladies." Xander was at the door waiting for them. "The Bronze does close at three o'clock."  
  
"We'll get there, Xander," Willow smiled, hitting him lightly in the stomach.  
  
The Bronze was a gothic looking industrial styled club. Music pulsed, couples and groups sat on couches and at tables. The dance floor was packed.  
  
Morgan was awed. She had been to clubs in Toronto, like the Phoenix and Warehouse, but neither of them compared to this. Music throbbed throughout the industrial room as the group found a couch and chairs to sit at. Xander went to the bar and brought back a beer for Morgan, Singapore Sling for Buffy and fruit juice for Willow and Tara.  
  
Buffy's eyes lit up to a song that began. "Let's go dance!" She grabbed Morgan's hand, who grabbed Xander, who grabbed Willow, who grabbed Tara. The group of five stumbled onto the dance floor and began to move to the music.  
  
i'm moving fast like clouds in the sky  
  
you can see my tears are dry  
  
you're staying there higher in the sky  
  
7 layers of air  
  
we've  
  
never  
  
ever  
  
moved  
  
together  
  
yet  
  
so  
  
beautiful  
  
Morgan laughed as she danced with Buffy and Xander as Willow and Tara moved together.  
  
i'm moving fast like birds in the sky  
  
you can see my eyes turn bright  
  
you are stying there further in the sky  
  
7 layers of time  
  
i'm proving past and breaking new ground  
  
slowly my eyes open wide  
  
you're staying there and playing new sounds  
  
7 layers of light  
  
Morgan's head exploded. Bright lights flashed before her eyes.  
  
Two heads on the same coin. A voice echoed in her head, getting louder and louder. Two heads, be careful Morgaine, they are one. Do not trust the other. Be careful Morgaine.  
  
"Grammy?" Morgan whimpered, then the world went black.  
  
"Morgan!" Xander reached for her when she fell, but arms had already caught her from behind.  
  
"Spike--let her go." Buffy ground out. "Give her to me."  
  
"We have to get her somewhere to lay down," Willow said, feeling Morgan's head with worry. A sheen of cold sweat covered the violet eyed witches' features.  
  
"We'll take her back to my place," Buffy went to grab Morgan from Spike, who backed away from her. "Spike-" her voice was warning.  
  
"The way I see it, Slayer, is you have two choices. You can carry the whelp and I can defend us against big nasties. Or I can carry her and you can defend us," He cocked his head to one side. "But of course, It's up to you, Summers."  
  
Buffy threw her hands in the air. "Fine, just keep up." She said, striding out of the Bronze.  
  
Buffy's House, Sunnydale  
  
"Nice jammies," Xander whispered to Jenny who was sitting on the floor next to the chair he was sitting on. Jenny blushed, looking down at the pink flannels she had bought earlier that day, covered in big sheep and clouds.  
  
"Thanks," she whispered back.  
  
Buffy's voice rang into the living room from teh kitchen. "What were you doing there, Spike?"  
  
The vampire's voice was defensive, "A bloke can't go out for a drink without your permission, Slayer?"  
  
Buffy glared at him. "Watch it Spike--when that chip comes out of your head, I'll be standing there with a stake waiting to kill you."  
  
"Testy testy, Slayer," He clucked. "Afraid I'll take your precious amethyst witch from you?"  
  
"What?" Buffy's voice rose a few octaves.  
  
"Buffy? Spike?" Morgan's voice was weak, but she was in the kitchen.  
  
"You should be resting, Pet," Spike moved to her quickly, as her footing wavered. "What are you doing out of bed?"  
  
"I have to tell you--what I saw," Morgan's eyes opened wide, the shattered amethyst was back, nearly breaking Spike's dead heart. "Two heads, One coin, it was my grandmother, warning me agianst someone. A blonde woman."  
  
"Glory?"  
  
"I don't know. But she is the same person as a young man with brown hair. They share a body--they are gods. The woman--Glory you say?" she looked to Buffy, leaning into Spike's arms.  
  
"Yes," the Slayer said, concern ebbing in teh Witch's and vampires closeness.  
  
"She is looking for a key, is the man knows where the key is, she will know. She will find it, and everything is dark," Morgan gasped, tears welling up. "The end of the world is coming."  
  
"We'll stop it," Buffy assured her. "Nobody knows where the key is except me and Giles. And Glory couldn't even torture it out of me or him."  
  
Morgan groaned, clutching her head. "I think, I'd better--" then she passed out again.  
  
"Bloody Christ--you're getting heavy, Pet," Spike said to the unconscious witch. He hauled her into his arms and carried her back upstairs to Joyce's room as Buffy went into the living room.  
  
"I think we should call it a night," she told the group gathered in there. "We'll meet at the Magick Shoppe tomorrow around lunch time, okay?"  
  
"Sure Buffster, I'll be there." Xander winked at Jenny. "And I'll be sure to drag along these two too." he gestured to Jenny and Sarah. Jenny smiled up at him, a blush covering her elfin features.  
  
Willow and Tara looked at one another, smiling as if they held a secret.  
  
Xander looked at them. "What? What?" his voice raising in paranoia.  
  
"nothing," THe witches said in unison and stood, making their way to the door.  
  
"See you guys tomorrow," Willow said, as the couple left to go home.  
  
Xander stood. "I should book it, too," he said, then looked at Jenny. "Walk me out?" he offered his hand, and she took it, letting him help her up.  
  
Jenny walked Xander down the driveway to the sidewalk, out of view of the house.  
  
Xander turned, looking down at her, his hands on her slender shoulders. She was so small, more delicate than Willow or Buffy. "I really do like your jammies," he said, not knowing what else to say. "They have sheep on them."  
  
Jenny laughed. "Yes, they do," she said, laughter in her voice and eyes. Liquid brown eyes, and black hair with red shimmering through it. Xander couldn't believe how pretty she was. "What? Is something wrong?" Jenny smoothed her hair self-consciously.  
  
Only then did Xander realize he was staring at the girl. "No-no," he caught her hands in his, kissing them on impulse. "Everything is perfect-you're perfect."  
  
Jenny's heart caught. Xander? Saying she was perfect? Maybe this was a dream afterall. A hallucination from her overactive imagination.  
  
"earth to Jenny?" Xander's voice brought her back from her thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
"Is this a dream? Am I really here?" She asked him softly.  
  
"You seem real enough to me," He replied, his dark eyes burning into hers. He bent his head, lips grazing her cheek. He heard her breath catch. "That seemed real enough to me." Then he brushed his lips over hers. "So did that."  
  
"Mmm hmm," Jenny murmured in agreement, as the blush covered her features again.  
  
"I love the way you blush," Xander felt his cheeks heat up a bit at his admission. "It's cute."  
  
Jenny giggled, then they heard someone clearing their throat from teh doorway. "I think that's Buffy--I should go back in."  
  
"Yeah-see you tomorrow," Xander stole one last kiss from her, and she ran inside the house. He practically bounced all the way home.  
  
Morgan groaned, waking up to a blinding headache. The room was dark, the curtains were open showing a beautifully starry night sky. The moon was nearly full, it's light showing the grounds outside.  
  
"You awake, Love?" a familiar cockneyed voice asked.  
  
"Spike?" Morgan asked, her voice weaker than she thought it would be.  
  
"You sound horrible, Pet," he replied.  
  
"Thanks," Morgan tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough.  
  
"Take it easy, Witch," he was there, offering her a glass of cool water. She took it greatfully, taking a long drink.  
  
"Thank you," she clasped his hand. "How long have I been out?"  
  
"Since you were in teh kitchen?"  
  
Morgan nodded.  
  
"About two hours. It's almost four o'clock in the morning." Spike looked down at their intertwined fingers. 


End file.
